


Craving Tenderness

by memewife



Series: Wayhaven Week 2020 [2]
Category: The Wayhaven Chronicles (Interactive Fiction)
Genre: Absolutely not historically accurate, Ava deserves tenderness, Cunnilingus, F/F, Look it's got Knight Ava, Porn With Plot, Vaginal Fingering, also human Ava, also we're getting some angst in here now too, and repression :), if you're just here for the smut it's chapter 3, lots of longing, oops it's an actual AU now
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2020-10-17
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:48:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25245667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/memewife/pseuds/memewife
Summary: It has been a damned long day and Ava looks forward to nothing more than sinking into bed. Fresh wounds from the battle earlier today sting, but she grits her teeth as she pushes open the door into the tavern. She is alive. That’s all that matters now.------Oh what I would give to be a ye-olde temptress sending knight Ava du Mortain absolutely salacious glances
Relationships: Female Detective/Ava du Mortain
Series: Wayhaven Week 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1827400
Comments: 4
Kudos: 34





	1. Late Spring

**Author's Note:**

> This is absolutely not historically accurate! Just for fun!  
> Tender prompt for Wayhaven Week 2020!  
> May or may not write a second bit to this for the feral stuff, but I stopped it here so that I'd actually finish something whoops

It has been a damned long day and Ava looks forward to nothing more than sinking into bed. Fresh wounds from the battle earlier today sting, but she grits her teeth as she pushes open the door into the tavern. She is alive. That’s all that matters now. 

The tavern’s bustle seems to quiet a bit as a knight enters, but idle chatter resumes just as quickly as Ava doffs her helmet, allowing a somewhat mussed braid of dark blonde hair to fall over her shoulder. Soon enough, only two sets of eyes remain on her. The first presumably belongs to the tavern owner, who glances up for only a moment as she busies herself behind the bar. The second set catches Ava’s interest far more. A barmaid leans over a table of patrons, setting plates in front of them in such a way that allows both them and Ava an unabashedly bold view of her buxom chest. One of the patrons, a man, says something to her and she responds, but her eyes never leave Ava. Instead, she allows her gaze to roam, taking what feels like ages before she makes eye contact. 

The barmaid straightens up, lips parting, and Ava swallows hard, turning sharply towards the bar. She does not know what she could possibly have done to warrant such gawking. It wasn’t as though she’d broken the door off of its hinges. Still, though, something about the attention makes heat rise to her cheeks and her mouth feel dry. Setting her jaw tighter and attempting to put the barmaid from her mind, Ava approaches the bar.

“What can I get for you?” The owner looks up from the glass she wipes clean with a smile.

“A room for the night, a hot meal, and a bath, if you’d please.” Ava’s voice sounds distinctly less composed than she wants it to. She wills her frown away as the owner directs her toward a table to wait. It’s in a corner, away slightly from the din of drunken sailors and soldiers. Ava’s grateful. The noise still has her head pounding, but the corner offers her at least some reprieve. She remains alert, though she does lean back in her chair with a heavy sigh. Thoughts of a warm bath consume her for some time before she feels eyes on her again. She stays composed, though her muscles tense, and scans the room. 

Ava supposes that she shouldn’t be surprised that she finds the barmaid looking back. She smiles as their eyes meet and Ava feels her chest constrict with something she can’t exactly identify and she looks away. Perhaps it’s nerves? Curiosity? Surely it’s nerves. Being watched so closely does make her uneasy, though there’s something a little different about what she’s feeling now. She frowns, working to dispel her hangups. There’s no reason to allow herself to be intimidated. Ava’s so deep in attempting to stop herself from thinking more on the matter that she doesn’t notice the barmaid approach.

“Here you are! I’ll be drawing your bath in a moment so that it’s ready after your meal.” The barmaid’s voice is light and gentler than Ava expected. Her composed mask slips for a moment as she watches her lean in to set the dish in front of her. Ava catches just a waft of something floral over the smell of roasted meat and she dares a glance toward the barmaid.

“Thank you, Miss...” Ava trails off, allowing space for an introduction before she realizes she’s doing it. The barmaid laughs, staying slightly bent over the table.

“Burke. Irena Burke.” Irena lingers, finger dragging along wood as she stands tall once more. “I should start that bath now.”

“Thank you, Miss Burke.” Ava clears her throat and tries not to notice the way Irena’s skirt shows the sway of her hips. She fails, but at the very least, the food in front of her gives her something to help push it from her mind. She busies herself with eating - the food is edible, but she’s used to far finer. Still, after the day she’s had, it’s welcome. She nearly groans when someone from another table nudges her, interrupting her stolen moment of peace.

“Be careful with the barmaid. Some say she prefers the company of women… Too bad.” Ava furrows her brow as she faces the patron. He’s grinning conspiratorially, and the assumption of commonality makes her frown.

“Can you blame her? Men try my patience as well. Particularly _when they interrupt my meal_.” There’s a rough note in her voice that makes him lean back to his own table, clearly flustered. Fortunately, Ava’s left to eat in peace after that. 

* * *

Soon enough. Irena approaches Ava’s table again. “If you’re ready for your bath, please follow me, Ser.” Ava merely nods and stands, now towering over Irena, who catches her lip in her teeth. After a moment of Irena’s staring that seems to stretch, she returns the nod and turns. “Right this way!” Ava wonders if she’s imagining the slight squeak to her voice. She’s left wondering, though, as Irena doesn’t speak again until she’s led Ava upstairs and into one of the rooms. 

“Please, allow me to assist you.” These words are a little rushed, but Irena holds her hands out steadily, only hesitating as her fingers brush cool metal. Ava tries to ignore the way it makes her heart thump as she finds herself nodding slowly.

“Thank you. It’s a pain to get armor off on my own.” Her voice catches. It’s not _entirely_ a lie. Armor is, indeed, a complete pain to put on and remove properly, but that doesn’t mean that Ava isn’t practiced in it. Still, Irena is eager to help, surprisingly elegant hands coming to work at leather straps. Yes, Ava is merely indulging a curious barmaid. What she’s allowing now has absolutely nothing to do with the way she feels strangely compelled to learn more about her in return. Nothing at all. With a small frown, Ava removes her gauntlets. When she finally glances back up, she finds Irena’s eyes searching her face. 

“Is something wrong?” Ava mentally curses. She’s perceptive. _Of course she is._ With how much she’s been staring, it would be a miracle for her not to notice the tension Ava carries. 

“Nothing, I-” Ava’s words come out forcefully, only making Irena frown in concern as she slowly slides metal plates down her arm. She collects herself briefly before trying again, voice softer this time. “I have had a long day. I just need rest.” Irena seems to take the hint in her words and focuses more intently on the armor, lips pursed as she starts to work at the buckles more efficiently now. Had she been taking her time before on purpose? Ava does not like the way that thought makes her throat constrict. Instead, she occupies herself with the relief the cool air brings as it hits her thin tunic. There’s a blessed moment of silence between them before Irena’s eyes flick up to Ava’s face once more.

“You were involved in the fighting earlier, weren’t you?” Ava searches her face for any hint of something sinister, but she only finds concern that morphs into focus as Irena busies herself with Ava’s chestplate.

“I was.” Ava’s breath catches as a stray finger brushes her side. Again, she draws her lips into a tight, thin line. Is she really so starved for tenderness that an errant touch makes her heart race? Apparently so. She can’t even begin to deny it before another hand lingers at her shoulder.

“You must be very strong, then. You look practically untouched.” Irena has a hint of a smile and Ava could swear that her rosy cheeks weren’t quite so red a moment ago. With a last, extra little brush against her, Irena hefts the breastplate away with more ease than Ava expected. From there, Ava takes over. It’s far easier to get the rest of her armor off now that her movements are less heavy. Within a minute, Ava stands by the steaming tub, simple tunic and pants clinging to her form from a day’s worth of sweat. She desperately needs the bath.

So much so that she starts to pull off her clothing, only to stop when she hears a soft gasp by the door. She lowers the hem, turning sharply to find Irena hesitating by the door. She’s quiet for a few seconds before panic rises to her eyes and she backs against the doorframe.

“I’m- I’m so sorry, Ser! I just meant to-” She pauses for a moment, eyes catching on Ava’s collarbone. “I wanted to offer to help tend your wounds.” She swallows thickly, and Ava follows her gaze down to find a bluish-purple bruise. She tests the skin gently, letting out a hiss as she grits her teeth. In all honesty, she hadn’t even noticed she’d sustained any sort of injury until it was pointed out. It certainly wasn’t anything she needed help addressing. Still, there’s a dull ache in Ava that seems to extend even beyond her sore muscles.

“I see. I appreciate the offer.” A hint of warmth comes to Ava’s cool green gaze, but otherwise, her expression gives away nothing. Irena, somehow, seems to notice and she relaxes, even stepping a few paces forward.

“I’m just happy to help.” She looks at the bruise once again. “You should… get ready for your bath.” Ava quirks an eyebrow, but complies, turning her back before stripping off her tunic. She hears the sound of shifting behind her, but focuses on undressing completely and slipping into the water. Ava turns her head to look over her shoulder and finds Irena, at this point staring shamelessly, lips parted. Something within her can’t help being pleased by the response and she subtly flexes before allowing the water to ease some of the tension she carries. As pleasant as it is, though, she sighs heavily as she notes some stinging. Perhaps she didn’t come away from the fight quite as unscathed as she’d thought.

“Thank you,” Ava mumbles, looking down into the water before her. Her voice seems to inspire Irena into action, as the next time she dares to glance back, Irena is settling herself behind the tub and dipping a soft cloth into the bath.

“I’m just here to help,” Irena repeats, but there’s a wavering in her voice that betrays her. Slowly, gently, she moves the cloth over Ava’s back, taking extra care when she hears her breath hitch.

“This must be beyond your usual work.” Ava shifts slightly to look over her shoulder as Irena stills. 

“It… perhaps is,” she admits, seeming to find excuses to look anywhere else. “What if I were to tell you that I just found you interesting?” Her voice is measured. She’s holding back. Ava laughs once, dryly.

“I’d question your taste.” Irena hums at the response, pressing the rag tenderly against Ava’s shoulder now.

“You may be a stranger, but you’re beautiful.” Ava’s face scrunches and she’s grateful for a moment that Irena can only see her back from this angle. Of course, what Irena can see is the way that the supposedly accidental graze of her finger against Ava’s neck makes her shiver. There’s a pause as she admires it. “I’ll leave if you’re not comfortable. Or I’ll stop looking if you’d still like my assistance.”

Ava’s mind races, dozens of different trains of thought fighting for dominance as the barmaid’s words sink in. The other patron was right. And Ava’s happy about it. She lets out the breath she’d been holding as she realizes it. Irena, apparently, takes it as rejection, and she starts to pull away, mumbling an apology. In a flash, Ava turns, grabbing Irena’s hand where it rests on the edge of the tub.

“No. Stay.” Ava’s voice is firm, but hurried. Irena stares down to their hands for a moment, mouth hanging open.

“I… Okay.” She’s baffled, but she sits on her stool once again, glancing down only briefly before meeting Ava’s eyes. She’s quiet again for a minute that seems to stretch for far too long before she leans a little closer. “You need company, don’t you?” Ava’s expression hardens a bit, but that seems to be all the confirmation that Irena needs. She smiles, soft, as she rests her other hand on top of Ava’s. “I need some company too.”

“You… do not give that impression.” Ava quirks her brow, but she takes the time to choose her words carefully.

“I’d rather spend time with someone more like me.” Irena meets Ava’s emerald eyes again, asking an unspoken question. Ava lets out a shaky sigh, then nods.

“I believe I understand the feeling.” Though Ava’s pledged to knighthood, an unmarried woman of her age and status does tend to inspire some talk. Talk that, in this moment, Ava finds may be more true than she’d realized.

It seems as though Irena takes that as confirmation enough, as she squeezes Ava’s hand before pulling hers back. “You should finish your bath. I’ll go get our medical supplies.” She hesitates for a moment before reaching out to just barely brush her fingers along Ava’s cheek and jaw, something tender in her eyes. All too soon, she stands, offers a curtsy and a wink, then leaves the room. 

Ava sinks back against the tub, left reeling from something so simple, so full of care. Her throat tightens, but she reaches over her shoulder to start pulling out her braid. She’s already making excuses for herself. There’s no way that a single interaction would be enough to pierce her iron guard. No, absolutely not. Perhaps, really, it’s just that she’s unused to being treated with such softness. Yes, that must explain the blush spreading across her cheeks and the way her heart skips. It’s surprise at being shown such tenderness, that’s all. Her next thought comes unbidden: _I enjoy it._


	2. Summer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Knight Ava du Mortain can't help being drawn in yet again.

It’s a little less than a month before Ava finds herself standing outside of the tavern once more. Anticipation wells up in her as she reaches for the door, but the fluttering in her chest makes her hesitate with a frown. 

_Just what does she expect?_

She expects a hot bath, a meal, and mediocre drinks, at least that is what she tries to remind herself. Never mind that she can acquire all of that in better quality and quantity at her estate. Or that the tavern is well out of the way of the training grounds and generally an extreme inconvenience to visit. Ava sighs. On her own, it’s easier to admit that she’s seeking comfort- one that only seems to be offered by a peculiar barmaid. _Irena._ Their meeting was fleeting, but Ava soon found herself consumed by memories of careless hands brushing her bare skin, brazenly-displayed breasts, and soft words. She dares to expect, no, _hope_ that they will meet again.

After all, much can change in a month. In the time it took for late spring to make way to the heat of summer, her bruises have healed and open wounds have faded to scars. She wonders how Irena has changed. She must still be healthy, surely, and working. Does she still bat her eyelashes at the sailors she serves, hands on her hips? Does she still joke with them? _Does she still remember Ava?_

Before she has much time to consider the possibility that she’s been forgotten, the door swings open and a drunken farmer stumbles out, nearly crashing right into Ava. The fool blurts an ‘apology’ that makes Ava’s lip curl, but she simply pushes past him and into the tavern. She has much better things on her mind, and she’s done gawking at a building like some sort of coward.

The scene is much the same as Ava remembered: same tables, though fewer of them are filled, same woman behind the bar, and, yes, same barmaid perched atop a stool chatting casually with a patron. Her breath catches in her throat and she finds herself fighting the sudden urge to run… _Run?_ Ava is nothing if not a warrior, a knight who prides herself on standing strong against the fiercest foe. So why does her stomach twist now?

Ava steels herself, resolving to slip toward one of the tables off to the side, but it's already too late. Her boot thumps against the floor with more force than she expected, just loud enough, apparently, to draw Irena's attention. She glances over, first, then turns toward Ava completely, eyes wide and sparkling. Irena doesn't so much as bother to excuse herself from the conversation, instead opting to rush to the door. 

"Mystery knight!" She places a gentle hand on Ava's arm, then lowers her voice as she continues. "I was beginning to wonder if you were nothing more than a cruel dream." The tension in Ava's jaw slacks and nerves make way to amusement.

"A cruel dream?" Irena nods quickly, loose curls bouncing around her shoulders. Ava nearly finds herself reaching out to brush one with a gloved hand. She stops, instead left hovering awkwardly for a moment before settling at her side. "I am real." Unease grips her for a moment, but then Irena smiles.

Ava has her answers now: Irena has not changed much in the slightest, and she certainly has not forgotten her. Emerald eyes meet dark hazel for a lingering moment, but both of them are forced to look away when the proprietor clears her throat loudly from behind the bar. 

"Irena." The tone is warning, and Irena dutifully slips back to the bar, breaking the blissful bubble between them. At the very least, Ava is thankful she has an excuse to follow a few paces behind. Now that she sees the barmaid and the tavern owner side by side, Ava finds the resemblance striking. The owner is older, clearly, a few slight creases in her face and strands of grey peppered throughout brunette locks. They even share a similar face shape. The suspicions Ava starts to form are confirmed when she speaks again, this time addressing Ava. 

"I hope you'll forgive my daughter. She can be…" She trails off, taking time to consider her next words carefully. "Excitable. What would you like this fine evening?"

"There is nothing to forgive." Ava's voice is firm, but comes just a touch too quickly. The owner pauses for a moment, stilling almost completely as she swipes a rag across the counter. Her face shows no outward hint of emotion, but Ava can tell she's searching, assessing. She straightens up without realizing it.

The mounting tension is slashed by a peal of laughter from off to the side. Ava can't help glancing over to Irena, chest tight and heavy. She's leaning over the bar, chin resting in her hand, grinning as she looks between them. Ava's gaze traces the gentle lines of her face, down her chin, following her neck further lower to the curve of her breasts. They look impossibly soft… Ava snaps her eyes away, staring straight ahead instead as she becomes painfully aware of how sweaty she is.

"I need a room and a bath." Ava hopes she's kept the fluster from her tone, but she suspects the tavernkeep sees right through her from the critical look she receives.

"Of course. Irena, prepare the bath." She nods to her daughter, who sets off with a polite goodbye, though Irena does brush against Ava more than she needs to. Ava turns to move elsewhere, but before she's safely away, the innkeeper speaks again. "Hold. I need to talk with you."

"What do you require?" Reluctantly, Ava edges back to the counter, teeth grit.

"I know not what business a knight of house du Mortain has here, but I do not take kindly to those who would drag my daughter into any trouble." Her words are clipped and measured, but Ava is sharp enough to catch the venom behind them. 

"I swear to you that I hold no nefarious intentions." The owner narrows her eyes just a hint, but she eventually offers a nod. Flooded with relief, Ava takes the cue to slink back toward a corner table.

Once seated, her mind has time to wander. She may not know exactly what her intentions are, but they certainly aren't bad. Of course, that implication is far overshadowed by something more troubling: the crest on her armor had been recognized. The tavernkeeper didn't seem to know exactly who Ava is, but she's uncomfortably close to realizing the lady du Mortain is sneaking away from the manor.

The thought makes her jaw set, even as she stares out the window. This could be dangerous. She shouldn't be here. But she is. 

Irena strides into the room, beaming, and Ava's doubts melt. If she were truly _that_ dangerous, she would have had plenty of opportunity to act by now. Or, perhaps she's not that sort of dangerous, she muses as Irena leans over her table slowly and sets a hand at her shoulder. Perhaps she’s the sort of danger that Ava can embrace. She pushes the thought away for now. That remains to be seen, Ava reasons, even though she finds herself following Irena up the stairs. _To somewhere we can be alone_.

Even as the more rational parts of Ava urge her to caution, she continues forward into the same room, same steaming metal tub on the floor. The scene remains just as it was etched into her memory, and she wonders for a brief moment if Irena will undress her in the same way too. Heat starts to creep across her already flushed skin as slender fingers do indeed start to work at the buckles of her armor.

For a few, fleeting seconds, Ava’s transfixed by Irena’s face, lips pursed into a tiny frown and eyes narrowed as she concentrates. Then, though, Irena glances up and speaks.

“So, are you going to give me your name, or must I call you my mystery knight forever?” Ava draws her lips into a tight line, debating for a moment. Surely she would be satisfied with just a first name, right? But then again, there aren’t many knights like her, and if Irena were to recognize the family crest… That could mean trouble. Just as soon as she opens her mouth to gently decline, Ava catches the spark of hope in Irena’s eyes and stops. She gives in as though she had nothing more than a fleeting objection.

“Ava. My name is Ava.” She nearly groans at just how easily she was swayed, but the way Irena’s face lights up as she slides off one of the gauntlets makes her think it might not be so bad. 

“Your name fits you well.” Irena’s trying to mask her excitement with a cool tone of voice, but the fumbling of her fingers as she undoes buckles gives her away. Still, Ava takes the bait, quirking a brow.

“Does it?”

“Indeed it does. Beautiful and strong.” Ava laughs once, short and dry, but she can’t help the slight smile that graces her face.

“I see.” Her amusement doesn’t fade. In fact, Irena seems to play into it, brushing a hand over Ava’s shoulder with an exaggerated expression of surprise.

“I should hope so! All it should take to know you’re beautiful is one look in a mirror.” Now, the soft touches shift, Irena drawing a languid line up Ava’s neck, then along her jaw, and finally stopping at her cheek. Ava’s breath catches.

“I could say the same of you.” Her reply comes as a deferential sigh, passing through her lips before she has the time to process it. Not that she would think differently if she did hesitate for just a moment. Ava knows full well that she’s been all but consumed by thoughts of the barmaid. How much harm could there be in admitting it in private?

Irena smiles up at her for a few seconds, then turns abruptly. “You should disrobe now while the water’s still hot.” She waits, swallowing thickly, but the quiet shuffling of fabric assures her that her deflection was at least partially successful. She presses a hand to her chest in a weak attempt to calm her racing heart as anticipation fills her thoughts. Before Irena’s left too long, she hears Ava slip into the water with a deep hum. She takes the cue to settle behind Ava and dip a cloth into the water.

“You know,” Irena starts, voice soft as she draws the rag across Ava’s back, “You should be careful about saying things like that. You may very well leave with my heart this time if you continue.” Suddenly, she finds herself grateful that Ava’s not facing her. She’s sure that those piercing green eyes would see right through her. Her voice may have stayed steady, but the uncertainty is clear on her face. She already knows that it would be far too easy to feel something for Ava. And she knows that it’s not something she’s going to be able to completely control anyway. Ava seems to be lost in thought for a moment too, but her reply brings Irena back to the task at hand.

“I shall take care, then.” Ava stares pointedly down into the water before her. Was she not just warned about dragging Irena into trouble? How could this sort of involvement lead to anything but trouble? But still, some weak-willed part of Ava leads her toward sweet words.

“Oh, shall you?” Irena laughs, leaning in as she washes Ava’s shoulders. “I wouldn’t take someone stealing my heart lightly.” This time, there’s a deeper edge to her voice, serious, but clearly intended to be sultry. Ava opens her mouth to reply, but her thoughts fail her as she feels the gentle pressure of Irena’s chest against her back as she leans in to brush the wet cloth over her collarbone.

Ava’s playing a losing game, she’s sure of it. If she keeps playing, keeps coming, she _will_ lose. The only uncertainty is when. 

Ava almost finds herself wondering if losing is truly so bad.

But then something strikes her as off. She can’t quite decide if Irena is toying with her, teasing her, or if she’s serious. One moment, she seems to be very straightforward, but the next, she’s distracting. What is _her_ game? Is she losing? Winning? What’s the metric?

Frown on her face and brow furrowed, Ava swivels to look at a bewildered Irena.

“What are you thinking?” Ava’s eyes narrow, scrutinizing, as Irena flounders.

“I’m just thinking about the very attractive, _very_ nude knight in the bath before me-” She’s cut off by a heavy sigh from Ava.

“And what do you want of her?” Ava searches Irena’s expression carefully in the brief moment before she looks away.

“I want...” Irena trails off with a frustrated huff, seeming to need time to find the proper answer herself. “Well, perhaps I wouldn’t complain if she were to steal my... _attentions_ away while I wasn’t looking.” Her last few words come rushed and near-timid, nothing like her typical smooth flirtation.

“You wouldn’t complain?” She’s deflecting again.

“Perhaps I would enjoy it.” Irena dares a glance at Ava’s face. It’s a mistake, and a foolish one, at that, but she can’t help it. She’s drawn in by her stare. It’s intense, heated, and it makes her let out a shuddering sigh. “Fine, I would enjoy it.”

“I believe I would too.” Their faces are close now, and Ava can feel warm breath tickling her skin and making her head spin. Irena's meeting her gaze with eyes that she simply can't pull away from, but then she glances down and- _oh._ She's looking at her lips.

"Can I?" It takes Ava a moment to register what she's asking. She's lost for a moment, but then she manages to give a slight nod and rest her hands on Irena's shoulders.

That's all the encouragement Irena needs to lean in and kiss her. It's soft, sweet, and lingering, much like the hand that traces along Ava's jaw. 

_It's perfect._

Ava is slower to react, feeling almost clumsy as she rests her fingers in Irena's curls. She's done this before, the kissing bit at least, but it's never felt this electric or this right. Her chest is tight, heart beating an eclectic but oddly pleasant rhythm, when Irena pulls back. Somehow, blessedly, she looks just as amazed as Ava feels. _Breathtaking._

A rough, calloused fingertip traces Ava's lips and she realizes it's her own. There's a tremble to it that makes it unfamiliar and troubling, but she's soon soothed as Irena takes her hand and moves it to her own full cheek. 

"Ava, it's okay." Her mouth is dry. 

"I know."

It dawns on Ava then that she will be visiting again, and regularly, for that matter. She’s already lost the game.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had some other things I had to deal with for a few weeks, but I'm baaaaaaaaack!  
> And I have more planned ;)


	3. Autumn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another meeting, this one made bittersweet by news of parting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh look, it's the chapter with the sex! And I've just about doubled the length oops.  
> Worked hard to have this ready for day 17 of 31 days of Wayhaven (the AU prompt lol)

They continue this way well into autumn. Ava takes advantage of each spare moment to slip away from the realm of responsibility, while Irena does much the same, though on a smaller scale. They meet, find some excuse or another to be alone with each other, then spend hours murmuring soft words, exchanging kisses, sometimes even daring to wonder aloud about the future. 

But one can only run from their duty for so long. Optimistic but fantastical musings of some fabled future can only temporarily stave off the inevitable. Ava is a knight. Knights fight battles. It was only a matter of time before she would be called upon for more than a simple skirmish. 

Ava saw the complication coming far before she allowed Irena to beguile her and worm her way into her heart, but she hadn’t expected her summons to feel quite so bittersweet nor her enthusiasm to feel so dulled. It’s a miscalculation, and one that leaves her mouth dry and expression stiff, even as she becomes increasingly aware of her proximity to the tavern. Her speeding heart betrays the thrill of excitement that rushes through her, but Ava swallows and forces herself to focus instead on the crunch of dead leaves below her heavy boots.

_So close…_

She’s there before she really realizes it, and suddenly she feels wildly unprepared. She’s going to have to tell her about it, and instead of actually coming up with a plan for delivering the news, she allowed herself to get distracted. She starts to pace at the front of the inn, thinking, but even her last minute attempt to soften her reality somehow is thwarted. 

The door is practically slammed open as Irena comes bounding out to greet her. She’d been watching, it seems. Of course she had. Ava knows just how much she looks forward to their stolen moments, even without her stating it outright. She feels it too, even if it’s dampened somewhat by her nerves. She allows herself to be pulled along by her barmaid, into the relative warmth of the inn and sighs. She hadn’t realized how numb her cheeks had gone, but that’s not Irena’s focus.

“Oh, your poor hands!” She grips Ava’s hand in two of her own and raises it to her lips. “You must be freezing. It’s straight to the bath with you, Ava.” Her tone is scolding, but a hint of something light and playful dances in her eyes. Ava’s mouth goes dry, but she nods without hesitation.

“I’m fine, but if you insist, I won’t refuse you.” Irena whirls around to have a word with her mother, leaving Ava standing alone, curling her fingers. Perhaps they had lost more feeling than she’d thought. 

When she looks back up, Irena’s at the stairs, motioning for her as her mother looks on with a concerned frown. Ava gives her a slow nod and a mumbled greeting as she passes by, and she receives the same in turn. She hasn’t become entirely comfortable with the innkeeper, particularly the fact that she knows exactly who she is, but Ava does know they both just want Irena to be safe. Even if she _rightfully_ questions just how safe her daughter’s relationship with a noble lady turned knight could possibly be. 

Irena’s tug at her arm pulls her again to peaceful thoughts. She doesn’t smile, at least not until they’re well up the stairs and away from prying eyes. When they’re alone, Ava can’t help the way she softens. As truly and completely inadvisable as it is, she lets her guard down. More than that, she wants to.

Apparently, Irena consumes her attention more than Ava realizes, because she doesn’t notice that they’ve stopped in front of an unfamiliar room until Irena’s pushing open the door. Ava lingers at the door as she sweeps in, then gestures around the room. Unlike the other rooms, this one is decorated; a low desk shoved into a corner, covered in books and loose papers, an unmade bed with a patterned quilt haphazardly thrown across it, a full closet, and a few sketches tacked up on the walls. 

“This is your room.” Ava states it matter-of-factly, but the surprise lingers in her expression. Every other time they’d been together, it had been in one of the inn’s standard rooms. Something about being in _her_ room makes it feel all the more intimate, and the way Irena’s lips curve up into a smile only intensifies the feeling.

“I do so love an observant woman.” She starts to laugh, motioning Ava in, but the mild disappointment she’s come to expect makes her move on. “You’ve caught me. I thought...” She trails off, glancing to the window for a moment. “I thought that you could maybe stay the night this time.” When she looks back, she’s softer than before, as though she’s afraid of scaring her away. And Ava can’t exactly blame her. She hasn’t stayed overnight since their first meeting, and they didn’t spend that night _together._

Ava clears her throat. “I’d like that.” She knows it, but the bold invitation still sends blood rushing to her cheeks. Irena beams at her, then nudges her over to the bed.

“Well then, allow me to prepare.” With that, Irena turns and busies herself setting up a washtub. Ava stands, transfixed, watching her absently until she notices. “Relax, Ava. I’ll only jump you if that’s what you want.” 

She raises a brow. “Jump me?” She hardly thinks an untrained barmaid could catch her off guard, even if she can heft admirable amounts of water with relatively little effort. It’s almost as though Irena can tell that she’s debating the practicality of it, as she laughs.

“Not like that, Ava. Take a seat and think about it.” Ava complies. If not like that, then _how_? The answer comes to her quickly enough.

“ _Oh._ ” Irena looks up from the towels she’s carefully laying out and nods. It’s not as though Ava is unaware of the connotations of spending the night with someone or the way it appears when the two of them sneak off to a room together, but neither of them have directly addressed it until now. Ava mentally berates herself for the horrid flush that creeps onto her pale cheeks. Was that indeed her intention this time? 

If it is, Ava knows she can’t wait to tell her about her orders. Irena needs to know just what is at stake if they continue as they are, what an absolutely bad idea all of this is. Ava knows she can handle the consequences, if only because it would mean Irena is spared from them.

Irena glances up from her pouring after a moment of silence. She’s amused it’s continued for so long, but the joke at the tip of her tongue dies as she lays eyes on Ava. She’s tense, jaw clenched tightly, hands clasped in her lap. Not at all the flustered expression Irena had been hoping to catch.

“What’s on your mind?” The question catches Ava by surprise, but it’s a good opportunity to give her a way out before she regrets her decisions.

“Irena, I’ve received summons. I’m going to war. I don’t know when-” or _if_ \- ”I’ll be able to come find you again.” Ava braces herself, leaning back on the bed, thin quilt grasped tightly in her fist. But nothing comes. The confusion makes her look up to Irena. She’s still, as though halted in time, but her expression briefly flickers to hurt, then settles on cool composure as she draws in a slow breath. After a moment more, she manages to move again, setting about pouring the rest of the hot water before offering Ava a flimsy smile. It’s empty, and she doesn’t need to see the pain darkening Irena’s eyes to tell. But still she takes it in. She knows no other way to take responsibility for the mess she’s caused. “I made plans to come here as soon as I knew, but I leave tomo-”

Irena holds up a hand, and only then does Ava quiet. “Stop. It’s fine.” Her voice comes out uncharacteristically flat and distinctly _not fine_ , but she takes a deep breath. “It’s what you have to do, and I understand that. I chose this too.” Irena sounds more like herself when she speaks again, but her words stay staccato, clipped. Another sigh, another pause, but then she continues. “Please, let’s not talk about it now. I just want to think about you.” 

Ava’s left stunned into silence, simply staring as Irena sets aside the kettle and moves in to wrap her arms around her, pulling her head in against her chest. It wasn’t what she’d expected. No tears, no requests to stay, nothing much more than a slight quiver to Irena’s lip quickly stilled by her teeth. Relief floods her as she brings her hands up to rest on her, one at her back, toying with the laces of Irena’s corset, the other squarely at her hip. Ava had been dreading the conversation, imagining the worst: Irena begging her not to go. She is not scared of many things at all, but her uncertainty about what she would have done in that situation is mortifying. Stuck between obligation and her heart, Ava’s sure that it would have meant failing both. But she was spared. For now. She reminds herself of that as she breathes deeply, soothed by the familiar, light floral notes of Irena’s perfume. 

“I only wish to be consumed by you.” She tilts her head up to meet her gaze. They hold steady for a few breaths, Irena tracing the strong line of Ava’s jaw, but then she laughs softly.

“Consumed by me?” Ava recognizes the mischief that sparkles in her eyes, but the way she lowers her voice and brushes her thumb across her lips makes responding difficult. Still, fighting the blush that rises to her cheeks, she manages to clarify.

“By thoughts of you.” Irena’s playful look seems to intensify as she leans down, bringing her face close enough to kiss Ava’s forehead. 

“You can have both, if you’d like. You need only ask.” She meets Ava’s stare steadily, reveling in the sudden heat between them. Ava swallows, tensing slightly under the attention. Just as she opens her mouth to speak, Irena gently places a finger over her lips. “Before you ask, no, this has nothing to do with you needing to leave. I’ve been thinking about joining you for your bath for some time now.” Her touch drops, dragging down along Ava’s neck.

“I-” Ava’s voice breaks, far too many words vying to leave her at once. Frowning, she breathes deeply, then starts again. “That would be efficient.”

“Just efficient?” Irena smiles, sultry tone returning in full force. Ava swallows.

“And enjoyable.” She glances away long enough for Irena to straighten up, leaving Ava with her face hovering far too close to her chest once more. She pauses for a moment, lingering before snapping her eyes back up to Irena’s face. She swallows. “More so than you could possibly know.” It wasn’t as though Ava hadn’t thought about it - about how soft Irena’s skin would be, how easy it would be to just slip a hand up her skirt, how she’d sound sighing and moaning her name… 

Irena admires her a moment, then laughs. “Well, you’d best undress, then.” She works her finger under one of the straps at Ava’s shoulder. “Unless you’d prefer we undress each other?” Ava wills her breath to steady.

“The help would be appreciated.” It is, after all, much faster to have two hands working at all of those buckles. And Irena does not take her time tonight. There are far more chances for lingering touches waiting for her, and all she can think of now is her need to feel Ava’s skin against her. Deep, looming in the back of her thoughts, she knows she’ll worry. Capable as she knows Ava is, war, _real war_ , is not something to be taken lightly. 

But Irena’s sabotaging herself. Here she is, with a positively _divine_ , nearly-nude woman right before her, and she’s thinking about war, about what the morning will bring. Ava notices the way her eyes dull, even as elegant hands slip below her undergarments.

“Irena.” Ava calls her name gently, brushing her fingers against her cheek. “Are you sure this is what you want?” She pauses, then sighs.

“More than anything, I promise you.” She loosens the tie on that last scrap of fabric clinging to Ava’s form, then simply embraces her, pressing as close as she can. Ava cups the back of her head with a surprising tenderness, an unspoken declaration of how deeply she does care. It makes Irena’s heart flutter.

For once, it is her seeking comfort from Ava.

She swallows, pushing away all that she can wait to unpack tomorrow, and she refocuses on Ava. Her oft-cool green eyes are warm, but tempered by her concern. As Irena offers her a smile, though, they melt again.

“Hey.” Irena’s breath tickles her skin and makes her shiver. She’s all but pressing her lips to Ava’s collarbone, looking up at her through thick lashes nearly long enough to brush against her. She can’t help a pleased hum as she takes in the sight, her hands settling once more at the laces of her corset.

“May I…?” Ava trails off, simply tugging gently to convey her intentions. Irena graces her with a smile, and that’s all Ava needs to start. She dips her head down as she loosens the ties, murmuring against her ear. “I’ve thought about getting you out of this-” Ava punctuates with a rough tug that makes the corset slack enough to slide off - “more than I should.” 

Irena laughs, then presses a delicate kiss against her skin. “Getting distracted during training, ser knight?”

“You know what you’re doing.” The expression Ava fixes her with is intense, and Irena can’t help glancing away, teeth catching her lower lip.

“Perhaps.” Ava’s hand hovers over her skin, waiting for permission. She gets it in the form of Irena guiding her hand to cup her breast. “You’re the only one I’m happy to distract.”

“So you wear things like this on purpose,” Ava murmurs, hooking her finger into the hem of Irena’s shirt and pulling down.

“I save my best for your visits.” Ava’s throaty chuckle makes Irena swallow as she shrugs out of the rest of her clothing. An unexpected shyness wells up in her as Ava turns her attention to her bare body. Where Ava is toned and all smooth planes, she’s far softer. She’d forgotten that her knight hadn’t seen her undress before, and the quiet makes her shift. That is, until Ava brushes her hand reverently along the slight curve of her hip.

“Beautiful.” Confidence returned in full force, Irena steps back into the tub. Ava follows on instinct, as though pulled by an invisible sting. And she supposes that she is. Now that they’re so close, all she wants is to feel, explore.

“Come on, flatterer. I haven’t forgotten entirely about warming those hands.” Ava follows her into the water, follows her to her knees, follows as she lingers there. They’re close, just barely brushing against each other. The bath is large, but not quite enough to accommodate two people. And that just means that they must be closer still.

“I hardly think that stating the truth is flattery.” Ava smiles softly, settling back against the edge of the tub and giving herself space to admire her lover. _Lover._ That is what they are to each other now, isn’t it? 

“I seem to recall you dodging the compliment when _I_ call you beautiful.” Irena splashes some warm water on Ava’s chest and winks. “You should know by now that I thought about you long after I saw you.” As she moves in, she traces a tender line along the muscles of Ava’s arm. The touch makes her shiver, and she bites her lip to stop herself from making an undignified noise. “I’m just glad that I don’t have to pretend I’m not looking now.” 

_That_ gives Ava something else to focus on, hard as it is when Irena’s fingernail ever so slightly grazes her collarbone. “You were pretending not to look? I noticed your stare several times.” It earns her a lopsided smile as Irena draws closer, settling herself between her legs.

“I never claimed to be very good at it.” Her attentions drift lower, brushing the back of her hand at the side of one of Ava’s breasts. “Besides, you’re one to talk.” Ava doesn’t even get the chance to protest before Irena continues, a playful note in her voice. “I’ve seen you stare.”

Ava huffs, somewhat indignant, but she can’t exactly deny it, particularly not when she’s reaching to cup Irena’s soft curves. “You’re hard to ignore.” She demonstrates, pushing Irena’s breasts up and together to form cleavage, marveling for a moment at the pleasant weight and pliant flesh under her hands. 

“I’ll take it.” Irena’s chuckle is low as she presses into Ava’s touch, then leans into a kiss. “I’d gladly take _you_ , too.” She stays close as she mumbles it, catching Ava’s lip ever so gently with her teeth. The gasp it draws from her is absolutely sinful, and it fuels Irena’s exploration down, tracing the lines of her abs with a tentative finger. Between the warm water and the impossibly gorgeous knight before her, Irena can’t help feeling lightheaded. 

_Finally, there’s no silly pretense of a washcloth between them._ Finally, she has the opportunity to give Ava’s body the proper worship it deserves. It is, after all, a masterpiece, as though each angle and little feature was lovingly hewn from stone to create perfection. Finally, she can stand her own teasing no longer.

Irena grabs at Ava’s pale, parted thighs, relishing in the pliant, relaxed muscle she finds and the shiver she feels ripple in the water. She continues her ministrations there, kneading as she dips her head to kiss and nibble at Ava’s neck. She tilts her head back, giving Irena better access as she lets slip a groan. 

Ava is melting, she’s sure, weeks of tension unwinding, and a decade of carefully maintained composure dispelled in little more than an instant. If she were in much of a state to think on it, she might have been embarrassed by the way it feels as though she’s coming apart so easily, not even touched directly yet. But still, Irena’s attentions drift ever closer to her core, slow, purposeful rubbing to stoke her desire further. She does well enough muffling the noises until Irena scrapes her teeth along her neck. Her moan is delectable, and her eyes flutter shut for just a moment. 

She’d grown used to being pampered, to having Irena’s full attention, but that all pales in comparison to this. What has only before been errant touches has devolved into kisses eager to mark the whole of her skin. 

But no, Ava is not one to be passive, as wondrously indulgent as Irena’s thorough touch is. She needs to watch Irena come undone too. Focus renewed, Ava runs a hand down her, settling between her barmaid’s legs. She hesitates for just a second, a wordless request for permission that’s met with a nod and a kiss. With a careful touch, she starts to explore. Irena’s slick and hot, almost searingly so, and the feeling is leagues away from Ava’s extremely limited experience pleasuring herself. 

She feels like she’s fumbling, not sure if she’s doing anything well. Is she using too much pressure? Too little? Before she’s left to question herself for too long, Irena lets her know she’s doing _something_ right with a quiet gasp of her name and a roll of her hips. She falls into a steady rhythm, timing her strokes with Irena’s slow grinding.

Irena hums dreamily, sending little vibrations across Ava’s skin. She pulls back from Ava’s nipple with one last languid lick and looks up at her with half-lidded eyes. “I want you inside me.” Ava complies, pressing one finger into her, then quickly adding a second. Irena moans, her own ministrations slowing and faltering, mind addled by her own pleasure. 

Not that Ava minds particularly. No, she’s far too focused on Irena now. Her expression is _exquisite_ , from her parted, kiss-bruised lips to her eyes, dark with desire. Ava’s left awestruck by the way she clenches around her. All of this, _just for her_. She pumps her fingers more purposefully now, curling them and enjoying the way Irena’s legs shake. It’s not long before her little gasps grow ever so slightly louder and her riding more frantic. 

Ava ignores the gentle ache of her arm and doubles her efforts, pushing Irena over the edge. She clings to Ava, capturing her in a desperate kiss, gripping her shoulders hard enough that her nails dig into her skin. It’s a magnificent way to ease into the afterglow, Ava’s fingers inside her slowing gradually until they finally stop. 

“Up on the edge of the tub. _Now_.” Irena fixes Ava with a hungry look, voice low and gravelly. Ava follows the order, though not without a cocked eyebrow. Any question that she could have had is answered in short order as Irena surges toward her, hooking her arms under Ava’s thighs. She starts with licking long, languid stripes over Ava, savoring her taste. She’s not content being slow for long, though, and after what feels like no time at all, she dives in in earnest, fucking Ava with her tongue. 

Ava feels like she’s combusing as she braces herself back against the basin. Irena doesn’t let up, thoroughly engrossed in devouring her knight. Ava arches her back, one hand flying up to tangle in Irena’s curls. Under the intense attention, it’s no surprise that Ava finds her muscles tensing at the building pressure. Tighter, tighter pleasure coils in her, until finally, blessedly, Ava finds her release on Irena’s merciless tongue.

And even then, she doesn’t stop until Ava roughly yanks her head up to meet her for a passionate kiss. She can taste herself, but she pays little mind to it, instead consumed by their close embrace. Ava’s lungs start to burn for air first, and she pulls back with a sharp gasp. Irena’s name is at her lips, but it takes a few steadying breaths before she trusts herself to speak properly.

“Irena...” Ava whispers her name reverently, a prayer she could repeat again and again without tiring. 

“Yes, Ava?” Irena wipes her face along the back of her arm, glancing up at Ava through thick lashes.

“That was...” Ava trails off, following the motion greedily. She tries for a moment to find her train of thought, but words fail her. Instead, she clears her throat and redirects. “The bath’s getting cold.” Irena blinks a few times, then looks down to the water. She hadn’t been thinking about it, but now that her attention’s been drawn to it, it does feel much cooler than before.

“Oh, you’re right. We should finish up.” She grabs the fragrant soaps left forgotten until now and starts to lather. She passes the bar to Ava as she nods.

“I’ll have to leave early tomorrow.” Ava’s voice comes softly, an important but unwanted reminder. Irena purses her lips, but doesn’t protest. She settles for pressing herself into Ava’s arms, resting her face against her chest.

“I know you have to sleep soon, but you’ll allow me to spoil you for just a little longer, won’t you?” Irena asks, massaging little circles on Ava’s back. Ava stares at her, quiet for a moment, before relenting with a nod.

“Fine.” Irena’s only answer is a grin as she starts to unravel Ava’s braid. May as well give her a send off to truly remember, if that’s what must happen. 

Irena hums to herself as she starts to massage Ava’s scalp. She has much to indulge Ava in, and little time to do so.

* * *

Ava wakes in the early morning. Had she any choice, she’d stay in Irena’s bed, safe and warm cuddled up with her lover. But she has no choice. With one last glance at Irena, sleeping, beautiful, serene, and the brush of a hand against her full cheek, Ava slips out from under the quilt. 

The chill of autumn morning air numbs her skin as she sets about gathering her clothing. As she slips her tunic over her head, she hears Irena stir. Ava freezes, hoping not to disturb her further, but it soon becomes clear that it’s too late. Irena pulls herself upright, groaning and rubbing at her eyes. Blearily, she looks around, stopping only when she sees Ava. Dressed already. About to leave.

She blinks the sleep from her eyes and swallows. “Hey, before you go...” Her voice is hoarse. Ava braces herself once more, ready for the berating she knows she deserves. But again, it doesn’t come. Instead, when Irena pushes herself up to her feet, she shuffles over to a set of drawers. She digs around for a moment, and Ava lets out a held breath. When Irena returns to her, she’s holding a deep, vibrant red ribbon. She smiles gently, expression still mellowed by the lingering hold of tiredness.

“I wanted a little more time to finish this, but if you’re leaving, I want you to have it now. A token.” Irena holds up the silky fabric, allowing Ava a better look. She can see her name, next to a half-embroidered flower. “I hope it brings you luck.” Ava doesn’t have the heart to tell her that she doesn’t believe in luck. Perhaps, if anyone could bring about good fortune for her, it would be Irena.

She reaches out, placing her hand over Irena’s. “Thank you. I will treasure it, _mea carissima_.” Irena meets her eyes for a long moment.

“Can I braid it into your hair?” She whispers the question, but she’s already reaching for a golden wave of hair.

“Please.” Ava mumbles, turning to give Irena proper access. For a moment, she feels nothing, but then Irena runs her hands through her hair, separating it out. And then she weaves, deliberate and slow. _Is she drawing out the moment?_ Ava can’t really blame her. She doesn’t want to leave either, and the tender gesture makes it all the harder.

After what seems like a small eternity, Irena smooths her hands over Ava’s back. 

“Come back to me, Ava.” She tries to hide the waver she knows will inevitably shake her words by pressing her face into Ava’s shoulder.

Ava sighs lightly. “You know I can’t promise that.” From the way Irena’s lips twist into a frown against her back, she knows that she’s right. It’s quiet for a few tense heartbeats, Irena clinging to her tunic, but then she lets go. Ava faces her, taking her hands again.

“No, but you’ll fight as smartly and fiercely as you can.” Irena meets her gaze steadily, meeting Ava’s uncertainty with determination. It’s at least enough to make the corners of Ava’s mouth twitch up into the beginnings of a smile. A small comfort. 

“Yes, Lady Burke.” They stay like that, close and eyes locked on each other, for a moment. No more words are exchanged before their farewell; that would only make it hurt more. Still, their care for each other pervades every little gesture: the cradling of a cheek, the brush of a curl behind an ear, the last kiss they share, even the way they part, hesitant and lingering.

But still, they must part. Irena watches Ava leave her room, watches as she retrieves her horse, watches as she rides off into the distance. And then she slumps back to bed.


End file.
